


thoughts of a butterfly

by orphan_account



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Cuddling, Cute, F/M, Fluff, HIGH SCHOOL YOU GUYS ARE THE FRENCH EQUILIVALENT TO SENIORS, Kissing, Making Out, Maybe - Freeform, Parties, Romance, Secrets, Soulmates, Underaged Drinking?, haha thats if i have the nerve, hmmmm, just kidding, maybe some sexual stuff later, slowburn, whats the legal age in paris, whow whoa whoa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 07:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sometimes, your prince charming is never who you expect it to be. You're no stranger to the cameras and fame, but it all seems a little overwhelming when it starts to surround your new life.





	thoughts of a butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> People running around in latex suits was not your idea of a good time. Basically, you're confused, but who cares if the guy's hot amirite?

“Arch your back more, darling. With your hand on your hip- just like that!”

            You smiled in the harsh lights of the studio, willing the sweat on your forehead to dry and the muscles in your face to relax. The camera clicked, the flashing light momentarily blinding you for just a second, before a dozen more followed. You twisted your hips more, the skin of your stomach teasing under the short hem of your gauzy shirt. Your feet ached as you pressed them forwards, the thick heel saving your ankles from rolling over and snapping in two at its staggering height.

            “Someone, please, move her hair so it’s more behind her shoulders and turn that fan up to a higher speed. We need more movement. Ah, there we go! Thank you! You’re working wonders on that stage, (Y/n).”

            “Of course she is, she is a(n) (L/n) after all.” Your mother smiled, her hands synched into her pockets of her blazer, her eyes gleaming. You managed a smile back. Today was a particularly harsh schedule for you, with the afternoon shoots atop of your fittings, fencing lessons and mandatory schooling. You were left without virtually any free time, save for quick bathroom breaks and long showers. It was a miracle you weren’t lounging on a chaise already, hair splaying and delicate flowers pinned in your hair, pretending you were just posing when really you were taking a well-deserved nap.

            “Just a few more shots, then we’ll take five and get you into some of those FS41 dresses, okay? Let’s go!” The hairdressers crammed back from the white backdrop, your curled hair now delicately waving behind you as though it were caught in a sidewalk stroll. You nodded, before sweeping your lips into a glimmering smile.

            “You’re New York’s best model for a reason, my dear!” The photographer beamed, unable to withhold a smile of his own, your face lighting up on the screens.

            _God,_ you thought, sweeping your hand over your cheek, glowing with a peachy tint, _this has got to be the longest shoot of my life._

            “You looked absolutely gorgeous in the gold sheath, my love.” Your mother gushed, as staff swarmed around your figure like a hive of bees, helping you slide of the organza and silk dresses, delicately sorting the Haute Couture back on the rack to be displayed at another time.  “And the blue organza made you look simply heavenly, just heavenly!”

            You gave a suspicious glance over your shoulder, your eyes narrowed as you gave a teasing smile towards your mother. She gave a half-smile back, the look not quite reaching her eyes.

“Okay, what is it this time? Last time you complimented me this much, I had to give up my art classes for an entire month just to work on that one photoshoot.” You said as you turned back, lifting your feet up to untie the powder blue ribbons that were elegantly wrapped up your calf. You could feel your mother cringe back at the memory, the shades of the persimmon still haunting her till this day.

“Well, the past is in the past!” Your mother said as she swept forwards, the crowd separating for her as she settled next to you. The hairdresser beside you contained a huff as they were shoved aside, still trying undo the array of bobby pins that swathed your hair. “And I want to talk about the future.”

            You froze. The future? Your mother gently placed her palm on your cheek comfortingly, her smile soft and apologetic. That only worried you more.

“We’re moving, (y/n). To Paris. It’s time that we moved our headquarters, especially after that Audrey Bourgeois took residence here. It’s best for the company and for you-“

            “But-“

            “(Y/n), please. You’re fluent in French, and plus we will always have this place! Just imagine it as a very long vacation, I suppose. You’ve always loved Paris! Plus-” She took your hands into hers, her thumbs soothing over your knuckles. Her face was lit in excitement now, bursting as though was physically incapable of keeping the secret to herself any longer. “We’ve managed to snag one of the best flats on the market. You’ll have a clear view of the Eiffel tower right from your window. It’s so beautiful, my love. You’re going to love it!”

            You said nothing, but gave a practiced smile. Never once has your mother asked you what you love, but instead a mixture of “I know” “You are” and for once wanted to say something of your own. But instead, as always, you swallowed your words and reached forwards, wrapping your arms around her. What more could you do about it now?

            “It sounds amazing, Mom.”

            Your mother smiled into your hair. She tightened the embrace, her hands pressing into your shoulders. “Fantastic! Now let’s hurry up and get you all cleaned up. We need to start packing tonight! We’re leaving in the morning on the jet.”

 

 

            _“Très jolie!”_ Your mother gushed, throwing her coat to a lounge and sauntering to a vase of roses, a kaleidoscope of reds and pinks. She plucked a manicured rose from the rim and whirled around, placing it into your hands. “What a lovely, flower, isn’t it? The rose, such a charming signature of romance. A bit cliché, I think, but awe-inspiring nonetheless. The City of Lights, of Love, has always been the source of my inspiration.”

            You struggled to keep your eyes open through the suffocating jetlag that strangled you, but managed to follow your mother through the flat, nodding away. City of Love! Roses! Pinks! Maybe a new collection? All of this inclusive information that reporters would’ve sold their soul for, all of which you would never remember. Not that it mattered much, since they would sell their soul for next-season Chanel gowns if it came down to it.

            “And here’s your room, my darling.”

            Your mother gently prodded the slightly ajar open, a soft light glowing inside. You gasped. Floor to ceiling windows stretched up the walls, gold foil intertwining the wooden decals. A delicate chandelier dangled from the ceiling, crystals glimmering in the dimmed light, the metal shaped so it looked as though it were blossoming with jewels. An immense bed was pushed towards the center of the room, swathed in (favorite color) fabrics and pillows, a metal bedframe dripping with translucent tulles that flowered over the bed.

            Speechless, you walked over to the doors and gently propped them open. A welcoming warm gust of breeze flowed into the room. Stepping outside, you stared at the dazzling array of lights that shrouded the city in a luminescent glow. And your mother was right- the Eiffel tower was gleaming not that far from you, lights outlining the dark silhouette of the indigo sky.

            It was perfect.

            Gingerly grasping the iron railing, you had a hard time believing you were still standing upright. This place- it was home. Your mother walked up beside you, smiling gently into the breeze.

            “Are you okay with this? All of it- the new schedule. I realize how much I’ve been holding you back by keeping you at home. I want you to experience things outside of here. New friends, parties maybe-“

            “My mother encouraging me to go to high school parties? Who are you and what did you do with her!”

            She laughed, breaking away to wrap her arms around your shoulders. “I want you to experience it all- safely of course. You’re so grown now.”

            “Eighteen is hardly grown.”

            “You don’t see it now, but I do. You’ve grown into such a lovely young lady, (Y/n).” She paused for a moment, clasping her hands into yours as though you were a small child again. Her eyes softened, gleaming in the paling light and said, “I cannot wait to see what great things you will do in the future. I can see it in your eyes- that determination to fight. You’re such a fiery girl. Never lose that spark, my love. No matter how difficult things are, I will always be there for you.”

            A deafening explosion shook the ground. You fell to your knees, gripping your mother as you held onto the railing for dear life. Your heart began beating your throat, your eyesight going blurry in panic as you tried to regain your surroundings. Down on the streets, a hulking blob of goo withered down the block, people screaming as they clutched their children close, diving under anything to hide. Horrified, you could only stare it the thing that suddenly manifested as it crept its way along, leaving a trail of fluorescent yellow liquid behind.

            You whirled around to your mother, you face blanching as you vaguely gestured to the thing below. Your mother stared awhile longer, before seemingly giving you a weary smile.

            “I may have forgot to mention that this might happen.”

            _“This?”_ You cried as you scrambled backwards while yanking your mother back with you. “You forgot to mention _this!?”_  

            “It’s an akuma attack, darling, but please do not worry! Ladybug and Chat Noir will fix this,” She said as she worriedly peered over the balcony with her lip between her teeth, edging backwards with grace. “Or at least I hope they will be able to.”

            A piercing scream broke through the chaos. You jammed your hands over your ears, cringing at the sound.

            “LADBUG AND CHAT NOIR!” The thing bellowed, the ground vibrating underneath you. “HAND OVER YOUR MIRACULOUS OR FACE THE CONSQUENSES!”

            Wrenching yourself up, you ignored the ringing in your ears and leaned on the railing for support. You were dizzy and disoriented, unsure of what exactly was going on. Ladybug and Chat Noir? Who were these people? And how could that thing speak? It looked like a huge gelatinous Jell-O creature, incapable of speech much less movement.

            That’s when you saw them.

            There, sprinting across the rooftops were two slim figures dashing with inhuman agility and speed. They were painted streaks across a chaotic canvas of colors, diving through the madness with admirable skill. You couldn’t help but to lean forwards and watch in pure amazement.

            A girl, with a striking red and black suit, threw a yoyo-like device forwards and into the creature, but it only passed right through and out of it. She whipped it back and looked at her partner, her mouth moving before she pointed up. That’s when you had the startlingly realization she was pointing up towards you.

            You staggered back with a gasp, your elbows accidently smacking into the doorframe. You barely felt the jolt of pain that raced up your arm. Adrenaline surged through your veins, turning your muscles to jelly. What were they planning?

            “What? What is it? (Y/n)?” Your mother nearly shrieked, her calm façade breaking. A lean figure leapt up to the balcony, his startlingly green eyes piercing through the dark. A small golden bell chittered on his collar, his tan face glowing with a tinge of pink as he grinned. The smooth material of his suit gleamed in the light, outlining the smooth curves of his torso, to the slim v of his waist.

            He jumped down from the railing, his lips pulled into a smile as he started walking towards you. You froze, your heart billowing in your chest, and you thought for a moment your heart might just give out. Of course, you’ve lived your life working with attractive people but nothing like him. He was unattainable, unreachable, and far too attractive to be in the midst of situation such as this. Maybe he would press you up against the wall like those romance films and kiss you till-

            “Excuse me, Pretty Lady, mind if I borrow this?” He asked, smoothly reaching behind you for the curtains that dangled over the windows. You blushed, forcing the thoughts away as you gave a stuttering response and nodded. He smiled and carefully take the curtains from the rod behind you, gathered into his arms, and with a quick wink he was gone. Your mother and you stared as the figures dashed away into a frenzied fight. The ground was still shaking from underneath you, but this time you couldn’t tell if it was from that encounter or the akuma below.

            And before you knew it, the girl threw a red and black dotted object into the air and the sky exploded into mixture of pinks. They swirled around you, brushing behind you and suddenly everything was just as it was. You gaped as you watched the flashes of light repair everything that had been in the destructive path of the akuma, somehow creating everything back to its original state out of nothing.

            You were leaning against the railing now, your eyes wide with amazement. Your eyes swept over the streets to find the boy in the mask and saw that he was with the girl once again. They were talking, as a sweeping number of Parisians near took out their cellphones to get a withering glimpse of the famed heroes. Their cheers were loud, chanting for the people saved them.

            And just when you thought they were about to leave, the boy turned back. His bright eyes were nearly glowing when they rested upon the balcony. Your balcony. You thought you were going to ignite with the look of his eyes on yours, even from so far away. Then they were gone.

            Leaning backwards, you collapsed onto your legs, your hands dragging down the iron railing. You were utterly, completely, confused.

            “Well, that was quick.” You mother chuckled, breaking the now still silence. Her voice was tired as she blotted her forehead with the handkerchief stashed in her pocket. You gave her a confused look, but your face burned nonetheless.

            “What?”

            “That whole encounter? Already catching the eye of just only the most famous person in all of Paris.” She smiled, shaking her head as she began to sit up. You gave an incoherent reply, stumbling over your words as you hurried to help her up.

            “I- I mean, it was just-”

            “Shush, no use in denying it. Let’s get inside now and rest, that was awfully tiring. Don’t forget, we have a photoshoot in the morning.”

 

            Lying awake, you were staring at the harsh glow from your television screen airing the masked heroes. The air of mystery surrounding them appealed to you more than ever. You wished to know the face behind that mask and teasing smile as did thousands of others. You doubted that you were the first person to catch a glimpse of Chat Noir’s flirty personality, but it still didn’t dull the fire in your chest.

            The memory of his eyes on you, the close proximity, it was driving you mad.

            Before you could change your mind, you took out your phone and hastily put a wallpaper of little drawings of the masked cat. Maybe it was just the exhaustion that convinced you to do so, but you couldn’t help but smile at the little Chat Noir drawings that smiled back at you.

 


End file.
